The God of War Comeback

Chapter 3

Sarah stood frozen for a second, her eyes wide with disbelief. Then rage broke through, and her voice exploded into the room.

She hadn't even noticed him standing there. She had been too consumed with the wedding, too dazzled by the promise of the Clinton family's name attached to hers, the kind of alliance that could push the Simpsons up into the second tier of the city's great families. She had rushed in without a second glance at who was standing beside her daughter.

But Alfred, asking them to cancel the wedding?

Sarah's head snapped toward him as if she were seeing him for the first time. "Alfred!"

"How did you get in here?" Sarah shrieked. "Who let you into this building? Security! Someone get security! No one invited you here. Get out!”

Alfred didn't shake; he said again. “Cancel the wedding.” His voice was firm and unbearable.

"What in God's name are you talking about? Cancel the wedding? Have you lost your mind, Alfred?" She threw her hands up, pacing in a tight circle. "Everyone downstairs is waiting for Angela to walk out that door. The young master of the Clinton family is sitting right there, waiting for his bride!"

She spun back to Angela, jabbing a finger at her. "What do you expect me to tell them? That my daughter changed her mind at the last second? Do you understand what we stand to lose here? Have you forgotten what's at stake?" Her voice dropped, sharp and cold. "Or do you want me to call your son's doctor myself and tell them to stop the treatment tonight?"

Angela's heart slammed against her ribs. "I" she started, but no words came. Her throat had closed up completely.

"Don't worry, Angela." Alfred's voice cut through the room. "Our son is my responsibility now- his medical bills, his future, everything. You don't have to be afraid of her anymore."

Angela's lips parted, but nothing came out. She looked from Alfred to her mother, caught between two lives that were both closing in on her at once.

"She is still my wife," Alfred said, answering for her when she couldn't. "There was never a divorce filed. She can't marry another man while she's still married to me. And she has a son for me, whether anyone in this room wants to admit it or not. If you won't explain that to your guests, I will. I'm sure they'll understand perfectly."

"Never!" Sarah's voice cracked with fury. "Don't you dare ruin this for us. Stay away from this family. We don't need you; we never needed you, not after what you brought down on us."

Alfred didn't answer her; he simply reached for Angela's hand and pulled her toward the door, his grip firm but not cruel, giving her no chance to argue and no chance to run.

The moment they stepped into the hall, a wave of gasps rippled through the crowd like wind through dry grass. Every head turned, and every conversation died at once.

"Who is that man? Why is he holding the bride's hand?"

"Look at him, walking in here like he owns the place. Doesn't he fear anything?"

"How did the Clinton family let a stranger like that into the banquet?"

"Is she trying to run away with him, in front of everyone?"

"I always knew something was wrong with her. A woman with a son from another man, and they expected her to be faithful to the young master? She was only ever after Clinton money."

The words hit Angela like small stones, one after another, and she lowered her eyes, her face burning with shame. She wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole.

Alfred felt her hand tremble in his, but he didn't slow down. He wasn't afraid, not of the guests, not of their whispers. He walked straight to the altar, picked up the microphone from the stunned wedding coordinator's hand, and spoke, his voice carrying to every corner of the hall.

"My apologies to everyone here. This wedding is cancelled. My wife and I have reached an understanding." His eyes swept the crowd once, slow and unbothered. "She will not be marrying some rich, spoiled coward."

He dropped the microphone back onto its stand and let the silence that followed speak for itself.

The entire hall stared at him, mouths open, eyes wide with disbelief.

Did he just call her his wife?

Was this man not afraid of what the Clinton family could do to someone who humiliated them in public like this?

Where had he been all these years, while she carried the weight of raising a son alone?

What kind of shameless man walks into another man's wedding and claims he still has a say?

Before the whispers could settle, George, Angela's father, came storming toward the altar, his face red, his eyes burning.

"What do you think you're doing, Alfred?" he barked, stopping just short of him. "How did you even find this place? You should still be rotting in a cell right now."

"I came for my wife," Alfred said, his voice cold and sharp, "and my son. The wedding is over; your guests are free to leave."

Murmurs broke out across the room like small fires catching.

"Isn't that her ex-husband, the one who got arrested for drugs?"

"How is he even out of prison already? Wasn't his sentence ten years?"

The whispers swelled, distinct and indistinct, tangled together until the whole room buzzed with confusion.

Then David Clinton rose from his seat at the front, his face twisted with fury, his fists clenched at his sides.

His eyes cut from Alfred to Angela, and then down to their hands, still locked together. His jaw worked before the words finally tore out of him.

"Who do you think you are, interrupting my wedding?"

"I don't think you're deaf," Alfred said, turning to face him fully, his voice calm in a way that made the threat underneath it more dangerous. "You heard the announcement. She is my wife; I won't let her marry anyone else. Not you, not anyone."

David's lips curled into a sneer. "So you're the fool who abandoned her and left her to raise a child alone. A worthless criminal, fresh out of a cell, and you think you can walk in here and make demands?" He took a step closer, his voice rising with every word. "Have you no shame at all?"

"I could have you sent right back to that cell," David added, his tone dripping with contempt. "One phone call and that's all it would take."

Alfred laughed, without a trace of fear in it. "You send me back?" He shook his head slowly. "You couldn't even manage it if you tried."

David's face went from red to nearly purple. He turned instead to Sarah and George, jabbing a finger at them. "Explain this to me now. How did this worthless fellow find himself here? Was this part of your plan to ruin my wedding with your daughter?”

But neither of them could speak. Their minds raced for something that could fix what was unravelling in front of two hundred guests, but nothing came. They hadn't planned for this.

How had they missed this?

How had Alfred known exactly where the wedding was being held?

How had he gotten out of prison so fast, and why had no one warned them?

David turned back to Alfred and Angela, his patience gone entirely. He pointed a shaking finger at her parents. "You lied to me. You told me she was free. Tell this man to leave, and let me take my bride."

"I don't think you understood me the first time," Alfred said, his voice dangerous now. "My wife is not marrying you, not ever. I'm taking her home. With our son."

"How dare you speak while I'm still talking to you?" David roared, his voice cracking with rage as he stepped in close, right into Alfred's space.

The words had barely left his mouth when a sharp, thunderous crack split through the hall.

A gasp tore through the crowd, every guest frozen in place, eyes locked on what had just happened.

David's hand flew to his cheek, his eyes wide with shock and fury.

"How dare you.”